Chapter 83: Urban Warfare (2)
Clink!
“Loyalty! First Knight Division, Mario Ranieri, reporting back!”
“Good work making it back alive. Take off your armor over there and get some rest.”
This was the last stronghold of the Holy Kingdom’s army, stationed near the Holy See.
A weary knight stood in a makeshift tent, saluting his superior as he formally reported his return.
His commander, acknowledging him with a simple nod, finally allowed himself a brief moment of respite.
He slumped into a chair and removed his helmet.
“Phew!”
Steam rose from his armor, a testament to the intensity of the battle.
Despite the cold weather, his body heat had built up so much that touching the armor’s surface felt warm.
Letting the wind cool him down, the knight retrieved a waterskin and took a long gulp, savoring the sweet relief of rehydration after a grueling mission.
As he sat there, lost in thought, an attendant who assisted the knights approached him.
“My lord, have you just returned?”
“Yeah. What about the others?”
“They haven’t arrived yet. Those who returned earlier went to bathe.”
“Already? The sun’s still high in the sky.”
Most knights of the Holy Kingdom wore full plate armor, staying true to the traditions of chivalry.
Their armor was so cumbersome that putting it on—or taking it off—required assistance.
For them to go through all that trouble just to wash themselves…
It meant they couldn’t bear the filth any longer.
“Their entire bodies were covered in blood. Staying clean makes it easier to fight, after all.”
“Fair enough. It’s not really my place to judge.”
“Should I prepare water for your bath as well, my lord?”
“…No thanks. Seeing those guys outside kinda kills the mood.”
The knight gestured toward the lines of soldiers marching outside the tent.
The sight made the attendant frown, nodding in reluctant understanding.
“Understood. In that case, I’ll bring you a wet towel instead.”
“Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”
Soldiers marched toward the battlefield, their weapons in hand and their banners held high, maintaining their formations.
It was a common sight in any war—except for one unsettling detail.
Almost every soldier had lost their mind.
“Ghehhhhh…”
“B-battle! Time to cleanse those damned heretics!!”
“Holy war! Hooooly waaar!! Kill, kill, kill!! The more we slay, the closer we are to heaven!!”
“Salvation, salvation, salvation… faith, His Holiness, His Holiness, believe, protect, protect…”
They muttered incoherent words and phrases, their meanings lost in madness.
Foam dripped from their mouths, their bloodshot eyes twitched, and their fingers trembled uncontrollably.
These soldiers had once been elite warriors, disciplined and orderly. But now, they were nothing more than a horde of lunatics.
Had they not been wearing the Holy Kingdom’s uniforms and carrying its banners, one might have mistaken them for a gang of drug addicts.
No—perhaps even drug addicts would be more reasonable.
At least they eventually sober up and regain their senses.
In that sense, they might even be more rational than these fanatics.
“What kind of ‘blessing’ did His Holiness bestow upon them…?”
The knight sighed, recalling the events three weeks ago.
‘Welcome, noble servants of the Goddess.’
When the frontline units were withdrawn to the capital, His Holiness himself appeared before them.
Standing tall, he delivered a grandiose speech, his voice filled with righteous fervor.
He spoke of wicked heretics and blasphemers threatening the Holy Kingdom, urging his soldiers to stand firm in their faith and protect the true path.
His words were carefully chosen, stirring up zeal and devotion among the troops—
Filling the unsuspecting soldiers with false hope.
‘I shall bestow upon you the blessings of the Goddess. She will grant you the strength to vanquish the evil before us.’
At the time, the soldiers cheered.
Blessings?
Surely it must be something akin to the Saintess’s miracles.
And the idea of receiving the same divine favor that only a chosen few had ever known?
They eagerly accepted His Holiness’s offer, never once considering the consequences.
Foolishly, they never considered the side effects of their so-called blessing.
“I—I feel overflowing with power! No matter how much I swing my sword, I never tire!”
“With this… we can drive out those damned invaders for good!”
The gift they received came in two forms.
Enhanced durability—both for their bodies and their armor, making them much harder to kill.
Reduced pain and heightened morale—allowing them to fight without hesitation.
The first was manageable.
It simply made them tougher, increasing their survivability in battle.
But the second…
That was the true curse in disguise.
While the blessing dulled their pain and filled them with courage, it also eroded their sanity.
“The more blood they saw, the more they were consumed by madness.”
The more they were wounded, the more they lost themselves to the battle.
Each encounter pushed them further into insanity, stripping them of all reason and logic.
Eventually, they became nothing more than beasts—incapable of thinking about anything but killing the enemy.
The mindless soldiers outside were the horrifying result of that transformation.
The only reason the knight had retained his sanity was his armor.
It had protected him from serious injuries, keeping him from fully succumbing to the effects.
But for how much longer?
“Hah…”
With a heavy sigh, the knight pushed his worries aside.
Thinking about it wouldn’t change anything.
All he could do was hope the war ended soon.
If they won, there would be no need for the Holy Father to maintain the “blessing.”
Everyone would return to their senses once it was no longer needed… right?
It was a baseless assumption, but he needed to believe it.
Otherwise, his mind wouldn’t last.
“Hey, where’s that towel? How long does it take to—”
Growing impatient, the knight stood up to look for his missing attendant.
Just as he stepped outside the tent, a figure came sprinting toward him.
It was the attendant—his face pale with terror.
“My lord!! Arm yourself immediately! The enemy is right upon us!!”
“What?”
The enemy?
Had the Kingdom’s forces already infiltrated the Holy See’s inner sanctum?
How?!
There was no time to think. The knight instinctively donned his helmet and drew his sword.
“Damn it! Those bastard Kingdom dogs!”
He rushed outside, scanning his surroundings.
In the distance, he spotted enemy cavalry advancing toward them.
“Heretics! I, Mario Ranieri, shall deliver divine punishment in the name of the Goddess!”
With a fierce battle cry, the knight charged at the incoming cavalry.
With his enhanced durability, even a direct collision with a horse wouldn’t be fatal.
All he needed to do was take down as many as possible—anything to ease the burden on his allies.
He took a firm step forward, bracing himself for battle.
“All units, fire. Target the heavily armored one in front.”
—Whoosh!
A barrage of rockets spewing fire streaked toward him.
His eyes widened as the sight burned into his mind.
“Ah.”
In that final moment, one thought crossed his mind—
“War is absolute bullshit.”
Five Hours Later.
“Your Excellency! We’ve secured a breakthrough toward the Holy See!”
After five grueling hours of battle using new weaponry, a messenger finally brought positive news.
“About damn time. What’s the status of maintaining the breach and expanding the front?”
“We’ve already concentrated cavalry in that direction. There won’t be any issues—our men aren’t foolish enough to waste this momentum.”
“Fair point.”
For the first time, Vaden grinned, as if a long-standing pain had finally been relieved.
It was the most satisfied expression I had ever seen from him since taking him under my command.
“The weapons you brought in made all the difference. I never thought those walking tanks of theirs would turn into roasted corpses in a single shot.”
“We used top-quality saltpeter and expensive fuel, so they damn well better be worth the price.”
The new weapon deployed in this battle was, in simple terms, a miniaturized Hwacha.
I had taken the rocket weapons I previously developed, shrunk them down, and equipped them with napalm warheads.
Fitted with fuses, they were loaded into portable launchers for use.
In all honesty, accuracy and range were abysmal, but for close-range destruction, they were more than enough.
After all, these weren’t meant for personnel—they were designed to burn down buildings.
But when used against people?
They didn’t just kill—they melted flesh away.
Even the sturdiest armor was meaningless, it would collapse in on itself, leaving behind nothing but charred bone fragments.
“I got chewed out by the Treasury for making so many of these. Even though the war is ending, they said I’m wasting too much military funding.”
“How expensive are they?”
“Fifty rounds cost the same as one artillery cannon. The materials are the problem.”
These weren’t practical for standard combat.
I had only deployed them now because we were storming a capital city.
In normal circumstances, they would probably only be used for covert operations or sabotage missions.
“Well, whatever. We used them well, and that’s what matters. Now, send orders to all reserve units—it’s time to launch the final assault.”
Once the defensive lines had been breached, the Holy Kingdom’s army lost all ability to maintain the front.
The heavy cavalry that spearheaded the charge quickly split into smaller units, spreading throughout the city.
Fires erupted.
Communications were severed.
Enemy encampments burned.
Commanders were obliterated.
With their rear thrown into chaos, the Holy Kingdom’s forces lost cohesion—
and without their already weak firepower and skill, they stood no chance.
Scattered and isolated, they were systematically wiped out.
“Your Excellency! We have neutralized all of the enemy’s main forces!”
“Now all that remains is capturing the Holy Father. Once he’s taken, the war is over!”
“One battalion, follow me. We’re securing the building and capturing key figures.”
By now, the Holy See was nothing but ruins.
We had intel that the leadership had retreated to the underground chambers.
Leading my men, I stepped into the rubble, ready to end this wretched war once and for all.
And then, we saw it.
“…What the hell is this?”
“It’s the Goddess. That damned heretic and traitorous wench.”
Lying before us was something that shouldn’t exist in this world—
A colossal, lifeless body of a woman.
And a twisted, grotesquely deformed Holy Father.